Julie Lanniston wakes up from a coma in a deserted hospital, only to find a ravaged world crawling with monsters. Relying on instinct to survive, what will become of Julie in this frightening place she once knew as home? Please R&R!

The waiting room is the worst, stuffing torn out of the chairs and the reception counter cracked cleanly in half. I'm trembling now, biting my lip as I walk throughout the ruined building. Stains of blood are on every wall, yet there isn't a person to be found. My imagination soars as I think of what terrifying thing caused this. There's only one room left, the ER. My hand tentatively reaches out to the bloody, silver handle. I turn it slowly.

Oh my god.

No. I'm not seeing this.

I feel sick. I stagger back a few steps, opening and closing my mouth like a dying fish. The ER's walls are painted in shades of red. Dried, shriveled chunks of what looks like flesh are strewn across the floor. On the metal operating table lies a disemboweled corpse, intestines spilling out the sides, completely crusted over with dried blood. Half of the face has rotted away to reveal jagged bones and an empty eye socket.

A piercing scream rings through the room and it takes me a few seconds to realize that it's my own; I feel dizzy, but I regain my senses and then run. I try to put as much distance between the revolting body and myself. I burst through the doors of the hospital and into the street, panting, and crumple onto the sidewalk.

I dig my fingernails into my palms and rock back and forth. Minutes pass and finally I manage to get up, shivering violently. I sweep my gaze over the street, ready to call for help, and then freeze.

The image I see does not register in my brain. I blink over and over again, but I don't wake from the nightmare this must be.

There isn't a single live person in sight. The buildings and shops surrounding me are in ruin; many have been destroyed, collapsed into a pitiful pile of rubble or with entire walls torn away. Cars have swiveled off the street and now lie overturned with their cold metal stomachs exposed to the sun.

That by itself is alright. But, oh God, the bodies, the bodies.

Some lying on the road, some sprawled over newspaper stands and benches, some peeking out from windows. Decomposed and caked with gore. Eyes gnawed away from their sockets. There are so many of them, all torn up and bloody and terrifyingly real.